Sermon – Acts 1.6-14, E7, YA, May 24, 2020

Tags

ambiguity, Ascension, community, empowerment, God, Holy Spirit, Jesus, liminal time, Pentecost, pray, Sermon, waiting

Throughout this time of pandemic, I have struggled with Holy Scripture.  From not being able to wash feet and share in Christ’s last meal on Maundy Thursday, to ringing in the victory of Easter, to watching the disciples be able to touch Jesus or share in communion with him during his bodily appearances after the resurrection, each experience has felt like a stabbing reminder of what we do not have – that we cannot gather, we cannot touch, we cannot share that identity-making holy meal.  But today, as we continue to celebrate Jesus’ ascension, we have finally landed on the perfect Scriptural metaphor for these days.  Thanks be to God!

Of course, I say that not because today’s scripture lesson gives us answers about when we can expect a return to “normal,” (whatever that may mean now), or when this virus will be over, or even when we can safely return to church buildings.  Instead, what our text from Acts recognizes is the brutal truth of this time:  we are in a liminal time.

Now, we have talked about liminal time before.  Liminal time[i] is the time in which we are in the middle of a transition.  Native cultures experienced liminal time most famously in the journey to adulthood.  When young men or young women reached a certain age and maturity, they were sent away from their families and out into the wilderness for a time, a time when they are no longer children, and not yet adults.  Their identity is in flux, their purpose is ambiguous, and their life is on pause.  Liminal time is a time fraught with anxiety, frustration, and confusion.

That kind of transition is where we find our disciples today.  They have spent forty glorious days feeling the victory of Christ’s resurrection, being blessed with further teachings, and being comforted by Christ’s presence.  They are ready.  They confidently ask Jesus today, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”  Jesus responds with a promise – that they will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon them, and they will be empowered to do their work of witnessing.  But for now, at this moment of climax, confidence, and courage, Jesus says, quite simply, “Wait.”

Now I know I said I was excited about this text because the text is so perfect for this time.  I say that not because this text finally answers all those questions of our liminal time – or even hints at when our anxiety, frustration, and confusion will end.  Instead, what I love about this text is that the text names the very frustrating reality of this time – a time in which we are not longer what we were (a community free to gather how and when we like, doing things like passing the peace, sharing a common cup, and congregating en masse), and yet, we are not yet what we will be – in fact, what we will be is even uncertain.  We are the disciples staring up at the sky, knowing Christ has gone to the father, but frozen in place, not really knowing what is next – waiting.

Karl Barth called the waiting between the Ascension and Pentecost, the days we are experiencing now, the “significant pause…a pause in which the church’s task is to wait and pray.”[ii]  Now, I know what you are thinking.  That’s our Good News?  I should wait and pray?  Telling us to wait and pray seems like a classic platitude, what we say when we do not know what to say.  Will Willimon explains, “Waiting, an onerous burden for us computerized and technically impatient moderns who live in an age of instant everything, is one of the tough tasks of the church.  Our waiting implies that the things which need doing in the world are beyond our ability to accomplish solely by our own effort, our programs and crusades.  Some other empowerment is needed, therefore the church waits and prays.”[iii]  Though the disciples are facing the “significant pause,” the promise of the empowering Spirit is a promise of hope, empowerment, and companionship.  Their waiting and prayer are not for personal comfort during this time of ambiguity, but for empowerment to be obedient.  Instead of praying out of self-pity, they are praying out of determined expectation.

That is our invitation today too – to pray and wait together.  We cannot cram into that Upper Room like the disciples do.  But we can gather – digitally in worship here, in Zoom gatherings, by phone, cards, emails, and texts, even drive-by Coffee Hours.  As David Lose reminds us, in this time of pandemic “God will be with us, comforting, celebrating with, strengthening, and accompanying us in and amid whatever may come.  And God will also be preparing us, preparing us to be God’s emissaries of good news, preparing us to comfort others, preparing us to work for peace, preparing us to live with less fear and more generosity, preparing us to look out for the rights of others, preparing us to strive for a more just community and world.”[iv]  I do not know about you, but I would much rather face the ambiguity of this liminal time with a community who can remind me of God’s promise, helping me see the work of the Spirit.  That is what we do when we pray and wait together.  Our invitation is to accept the gift of this community, gathered virtually for the foreseeable future, and to wait and pray with together.  Amen.

[i] Liminal time is a concept that has been developed by many scholars.  Arnold van Gennep, Victor W. Turner, and Gordon Lathrop all developed the idea of incorporating liminal time into liturgical practice.

[ii] William H. Willimon, Acts, Interpretation:  A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Atlanta:  John Knox Press, 1988), 20.

[iii] Willimon, 21.

[iv] David Lose, “Easter 7A:  Important Interludes,” May 25, 2017, as found at http://www.davidlose.net/2017/05/easter-7-a-important-interludes/ on May 26, 2017.

Sermon – John 14.15-21, E6, YA, May 17, 2020

Tags

accompaniment, accompany, Advocate, apology, commandment, conditional, Coronavirus, Holy Spirit, Jesus, love, obey, pandemic, Sermon

We have been spending a lot more time together as a family since this pandemic began.  All that together time has meant moments of joy and laughter; but that time together has also meant a lot of correcting of behavior.  One would think by now, we have figured out how to perfectly love one another.  Instead, we have been working on perfecting apologies.  I never knew how much of our apologizing could show so little remorse.  There have been the angry, shouted, “I’m sorry!”s, there have been the resistant, mumbled, “I’m sorry”s, there have been the sarcastic, eye-rolling, “I’m sorry.”s  And parental requests for our children to “mean it” when they say, “I’m sorry,” are almost comical.  How can anyone expect anyone else to apologize by force, command, or as a condition for something else?

I think that is what is so strange about today’s lesson from John’s gospel.  Jesus says “If you love me, you will keep my commandments,” and “They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me.”  The commandments Jesus is talking about are those instructions to love God, love self, love neighbor.  In John’s gospel, they are the only commandments Jesus gives.[i]  And who would protest such commandments?  Of course we should all want to love God, love self, and love neighbor.  But there is something strange about the way Jesus presents his command to us – if you love me, you must do these things.  If you love me, you must obey my way.  As lovely as love sounds, there is something that harkens to those forced apologies about our text today.  I am pretty sure Jesus is not asking us to love others with a sense of bitterness, resentment, or obligation – and certainly without shouts, mumbling, and eye-rolling.

I realize many of you may be thinking, “What’s so hard about loving others?  Why would I resist that?”  One of the things I appreciated about the beginning of this pandemic was the way we all pulled together.  People immediately worried about our elders being able to safely procure food and supplies; we pitched in to make sure the hungry were fed with free school lunches and restocked food banks; we sewed face masks and donated to charities to help protect the vulnerable.  Our collaboration, care, and support of one another was a breath of fresh air.  But we have not taken long to remember our demons.  As hard decisions have arisen about reopening businesses to buttress the economy, making cuts to make ends meet, or laying off employees to help businesses survive, we have reverted to our divided, vitriolic ways from before the pandemic, not only disagreeing, but attacking the character, intelligence, and dignity of one another.  So when we ask, “What’s so hard about loving others?” my response is, “This.  This is what is hard about loving others.”  As one scholar puts it, “It is NOT sufficient (or even meaningful) to profess love for Jesus while we hold ourselves apart from our fellow human beings.  To love Jesus is to love others.  All others.  The lover, the friend, the neighbor, the companion.  But also the alien, the stranger, the misfit, and the enemy.  The ones with whom we agree, and the ones with whom we emphatically disagree.  The ones we naturally like, and the ones we don’t.”[ii]  Our love of Jesus is only as authentic as our love of all others.

So how can we possibly love that way?  The good news is Jesus says we will have help.  Just as Jesus has been an advocate for his disciples – “guiding, teaching, reminding, abiding, witnessing, interceding, comforting,” so they will have the Holy Spirit.  “What they have known in Jesus, and fear losing in Jesus’ impending absence, they will always know in the promise of the [Holy Spirit].”[iii]  What Jesus promises today is big.  Now, I know some of us get a little uncomfortable talking about the Holy Spirit – either the Spirit’s presence just seems too amorphous to be of any value, or the Spirit seems to do weird, dramatic things that scare us more than comfort us.  But Jesus is not simply saying the Holy Spirit will be ambiguously hanging around when Jesus is gone.  The Holy Spirit will be, and is, accompanying us.  As scholar Karoline Lewis says, “Accompaniment is not simply having someone beside you.  Accompaniment is not a mere ministry of presence.  Accompaniment means active and assertive abiding—an abiding that enters into places of fear and discomfort, uncertainty, and troubled hearts, and speaks the truth freely.”[iv]

Now I don’t know about you, but that sounds like some really good news.  On those days when loving seems hard, when obeying Jesus’ command to love feels impossible, the Holy Spirit is here to accompany us, to walk with us in fear, discomfort, uncertainty, trouble, and guide us into lives of love.  The Spirit is with us to enable us to be agents of love even when we doubt we can.  That promise today makes the invitation to love as Christ has loved us not only doable, but desirable.  That promise today helps us loosen our grip on resentment, anger, and fear, and open our hands to love and collaboration.  That promise today makes obedience to love feel like a gift.  Thanks be to God.

[i] Debie Thomas, “Love and Obedience,” May 10, 2020, https://www.journeywithjesus.net/lectionary-essays/current-essay?id=2640, as found on May 15, 2020.

[ii] Thomas.

[iii] Karoline Lewis, “A Time for Accompaniment,” May 10, 2020, http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5433, as found on May 15, 2020.

[iv] Lewis.

On Holy Week, Distance, and Hope…

Tags

church, community, Coronavirus, creativity, different, digital, grace, grief, Holy Spirit, Holy Week, hope, intimate, physical, sacrament, technology, tradition

Photo credit:  https://www.brownsvilleherald.com/news/business/the-latest-holy-week-ceremonies-closed-to-public-over-virus/image_b2f632ed-6243-5410-accd-34ccf4865671.html

I remember the first time I was a Rector and planning Holy Week.  I was debating about whether to use the reserve sacrament on Good Friday or not.  I spoke to a priest colleague, and he shared the philosophy of the Rector under which he was serving:  on Good Friday, not even the consolation of the Holy Meal is available to us.

When our staff at Hickory Neck first started talking about Holy Week, we were faced with a stark reality:  there was no way for us to celebrate Holy Week the way we traditionally do.  Sure, we could use technology, and sure, we could try to do parts of what we normally do, but so much of Holy Week is physical and intimate – from waving palms, to washing feet, to kissing crosses, to huddling together around a fire, to having water sprinkled around, to gathering close in the dark, to finally gathering in a huge celebration with large crowds, Easter egg hunts, pictures with friends, and brass instruments.  There just is not a way to create that same feel digitally.  And so, Holy Week would need to be different.

For those of you who know me, you know Holy Week is superlatively special to me – it is my favorite week of the year.  So, for a moment, I grieved that loss, adding it to the long list of things I am grieving during this pandemic.  But then I took a deep breath, made room for Holy Spirit as I relaxed my grip on what I falsely imagined was under my control, and let the creativity flow.  Before I knew it, we were trying evensong for Maundy Thursday – a service we experienced daily on a recent pilgrimage in England.  We were creating a simple, powerful Good Friday liturgy.  And, I was trying for the first time a liturgy I had barely noticed in the Prayer Book – a Holy Saturday liturgy.

Holy Week and Easter will not be the same this year.  But, in all honesty, nothing is the same in this season of life.  If our lives are so distinctly different these days, it makes sense that our liturgies would be different too, as liturgies reflect the life of the people.  Somehow, creating this alternative Holy Week has felt like the Church settling in alongside the community and walking in step with them (from a safe distance, of course!).  Somehow, recognizing grief, discomfort, and sadness has made room for creativity, hope, and grace.  Somehow, experiencing a daily life much more in line with the journey of Holy Week is making Holy Week viscerally palpable, and ultimately healing, life-giving, and strengthening.  We still have a long way to go with this virus and its impact, but I am especially grateful for the gift of Holy Week this year.

The Pilgrim’s Way…Day 8

Tags

beginning, canticles, Christ, diverse, end, evensong, God, grow, Holy Spirit, longing, pilgrimage, prayers, question, songs, stories, variety, wandering, Westminster Abbey

Photo credit:  Jennifer Andrews-Weckerly; reuse with permission only

Sixteen pilgrims from Hickory Neck Church traveled to England for 8 days of pilgrimage.  Our focus was on choral music, hearing Evensong or Choral Mass at a Cathedral, Minster, or college everyday.  This is the last entry, initially posted on our church Facebook page.  For those of you who do not follow us on Facebook, I am repeating the journey’s daily entries here.  Enjoy!

London – Westminster Abbey

The full last day of our pilgrimage was a free day until Evensong. What was fascinating was how varied our experiences were. Some pilgrims chose museums, some did tours of government-related buildings (historic and modern), some did touristy things, and some rested or visited local friends. I was surprised by the limited overlap in our choices, and realized how diverse our interests really are.

That is part of what has been so beautiful about this experience. We represent a variety of ages and phases of life, backgrounds, and spiritual journeys. And yet, we all had a longing for something – a desire to know God more fully, to walk with Christ more intentionally, and experience the Holy Spirit more playfully. The commonality in our diversity made Evensong even more beautiful tonight. We gathered back in from our wandering and settled into the prayers, canticles, and songs that have rooted us this entire pilgrimage. As the boys and men artfully played one another’s voices against each other, sounds seemed to be all over the place, and yet majestically all together. Our journey mirrored the singing at Westminster Abbey in profound ways.

As we return from our pilgrimage, I encourage you to ask questions, to hear stories, and to grow with us. Our pilgrimage may feel like it is ending, but our pilgrimage is just beginning with you.

Photo credit:  Jennifer Andrews-Weckerly; reuse with permission only

The Why of Pilgrimage…

Tags

foreign, God, Holy Spirit, Jesus, journey, pilgrim, pilgrimage, prayer, refresh, relationship, renew, sacred, servant, Spirit, spiritual, walk

Photo credit:  https://rrcb.org/the-spiritual-blessing-of-pilgrimage/

Tomorrow, I will help lead sixteen pilgrims on a journey through England.  There have been countless details to coordinate, communication to send, logistics to handle back home, and preparations for the team’s spiritual guidance.  Over a year of planning will come to fruition once we step on that plane, and I cannot be more excited to see what is in store for each person’s spiritual journey.

Many people have asked me why we would go on a pilgrimage.  The truth is, there is no simple answer, and each person goes for their own reason.  Perhaps at the heart of the reason is to forge a deep connection to God.  For some, that connection is enriched with beautiful architecture, sacred art, and beautiful, holy music, all of which can be found in minsters, cathedrals, and colleges on our journey.  For others, simply getting out of their routine, going to a foreign place, and taking on the ritual of walking, meditating, listening, and praying is how they enliven that connection.  For others, relationship is their mode of connecting to God – relationship with team members, relationship to other pilgrims and Christians along the way, and relationship with our spiritual ancestors, who built these sacred spaces centuries ago.  We go on pilgrimage to know God, to walk with Jesus, to be fed by the Holy Spirit.  Many of us even go having no idea what to expect, but longing for something deep and abiding.

But we go not just to fill our own spirits – we go to bring back those renewed spirits.  We go so we can share our journey with others.  We go so we can come back better servants of the Good News.  We go so our faith community is richer as a body.  We go on pilgrimage for all of us.  I invite your prayers for those who go this week.  But I also invite your prayers for your own spiritual journey.  May your week be enlivened, refreshed, and renewed as we walk together.

 

Please enjoy this poem found in Ian Bradley’s Pilgrimage:  A Spiritual and Cultural Journey.  Our team has used it in our own preparations, and would like to gift it to you. 

To the Pilgrim

 Set out!

You were born for the road.

Set out!

You have a meeting to keep.

Where?  With whom?

Perhaps with yourself.

 

Set out!

Your steps will be your words –

The road your song,

The weariness your prayers.

And at the end

Your silence will speak to you.

 

Set out!

Alone, or with others –

But get out of yourself!

You have created rivals –

You will find companions.

You envisaged enemies –

You will find brothers and sisters.

 

Set out!

Your head does not know

Where your feet are leading your heart.

 

Set out!

You were born for the road –

The pilgrim’s road.

Someone is coming to meet you –

Is seeking you

In the shine at the end of the road –

In the shine at the depths of your heart.

 

He is your peace.

He is your joy!

 

Go!

God already walks with you!

 

~Anonymous

 

On Seeing Christ in the Chaos…

Tags

chaos, control, expectations, God, Good News, gospel, holy, Holy Spirit, Jesus, mess, sacred, scripture, story

Photo Credit:  Charlie Bauer; reuse with permission only

Yesterday at the Godly Play class Hickory Neck offers at The Kensington School, we finally got to tell the Epiphany story – the story of the magi visiting the Christ Child.  As we reviewed the whole story of Advent and Christmas, out came all the figurines of prophets, Mary, Joseph, Jesus, Angels, Shepherds, various animals, and wise men.  Typically, the teacher tells the story quietly, using the figurines, and then we have the kids retell the story, taking turns with the figurines.  And because the class has become so large, we usually have two sets of figurines so we can break into groups.  I would never say the class is perfectly orderly, but it is much more measured than you might imagine with two- to five-year-olds.

But not yesterday.  I’m not sure whether we, the leaders, were off our game, or the kids were still hyped up from returning from break, but the retelling portion of class was utter chaos.  Taking turns fell apart, quiet redirecting failed miserably, and by the time we regrouped to close the class, there was a mass of wooden, sacred figures in a disordered pile.  As we were making our way out, I looked at the pile sadly, grateful that they were all made out of sturdy wood and nothing more destructible, but somewhat disappointed to see such a holy mess.

But as I was thinking about the mess today, I was thinking perhaps my sadness at the chaos was my own “stuff,” having nothing to do with the success of the class.  Too often, we like our Gospel stories neat and tidy.  Too often we tell familiar scriptural stories expecting them to teach specific lessons.  But when we are honest, we know that is not how the Good News works.  The Good News upends worlds, upends social order, and upends our expectations.  Engaging with Jesus is messy work, and sometimes, in the midst of trying to figure out our faith, we end up with a messy rubble in front of us.

I do not know what you are you struggling with today – what things you wish were under control but are actually a mess, or what things you have been expecting from God that just are not how you expected, or what chaos others are making in your life that makes you feel bereft.  What I can tell you is that Christ is there, maybe a bit mired in the chaos too, but there nonetheless.  And sometimes, the mess is just what you need to shake you up and see the movement of God in a new and fresh way.  I suspect things will not turn out as you expect, but then, the Holy Spirit rarely works in ways we expect.  Sending you prayers today, that you might see Christ in the chaos!

On Discernment…

Tags

bishop, choose, Diocese, discernment, Episcopal, God, Holy Spirit, identity, politics, prayer, silence, space, trust

Photo credit:  https://www.ibelieve.com/faith/what-is-discernment-ways-grow-more-discerning.html

This past weekend, our Diocese elected its next bishop.  Having never served in a diocese that was electing a bishop, I was not entirely sure what to expect.  I had heard stories of clergy politicking for particular candidates, trying to sway their colleagues to vote a particular way.  I knew we have a diversity of perspectives in our Diocese and coming to consensus may be difficult.  And although I had spoken to many clergy colleagues about their discernment for the best bishop, I did not know nearly as many laity and what their discernment had been like.  By the time we gathered for the election, I felt anxious, hoping we could be civil, but dreading what might be a contentious process.

Instead, I found something quite different.  Some of the difference may have been the result of careful crafting.  We were seated in an auditorium, with a long center row.  Try as one might, getting up and down to talk to others between votes was not exactly easy.  Instead, many of us were left to pray on our own or consult the limited people around us.  Likewise, once the polling was closed, we were required to wait for the candidates to be notified of the results before we were; once the results were announced though, the leadership immediately had us vote again.  We had little ability to process the results of one ballot with others before voting again.  Further, before each vote, our chaplain read a prayer from the Book of Common Prayer.  And finally, there was absolutely no internet or WiFi in the room, forcing us away from technology and into a real sense of presence in the room.

Perhaps it was the rigid structure that guided our behavior, making the election different than I expected.  But I also suspect those gathered last weekend consciously chose a different path.  Instead of dividing into camps behind one of the six candidates, our laity and clergy seemed to embrace the election as a matter of prayerful discernment, not premeditated politicking.  Limited by the confines of the room, you could sense the powerful prayers emanating from each delegate – desperately trying to discern the Holy Spirit’s will.  The pacing of the ballots did two things.  One, there was ample time to prayerfully consider the name one just submitted electronically, before knowing what everyone else had just done; and two, there was a mandate to keep moving, to keep faithfully and rapidly calling on God for answers.  Even our chaplain seemed to root us in tradition.  By using the BCP instead of extemporaneous prayer, she minimized her and our influence on one another – instead, calling us back to the book the is such a marker of our identity.

You may already know about the dramatic turn of events toward the end of our election.  I suspect the prayerful process of discernment in which we were engaged in that space was also shared among the candidates, helping them to faithfully discern what they should do too.  Having walked through that experience so prayerfully, I wonder if there is not something for us all to learn from about the hard decisions of everyday life.  Perhaps we too could stand to:  root ourselves in prayer, trust those around us to be praying too, create environments around our discernment where are weakness are less able to thrive, return again and again to the beautiful words of prayer book, make space for silence when you do not know all there is to know, and, perhaps most importantly, trust the Holy Spirit to do great things in spite of us.  If you are in discernment about something in your life, know that you have my prayers.  I would love to hear your stories of how the Spirit is moving in your life too!

On Finding and Creating Sabbath…

Tags

church, creative, everyday, God, Holy Spirit, intentional, intentionality, moments, reconnect, rest, sabbath, space, time

Photo credit:  Elizabeth Shows Caffey; reuse with permission only

“So what do you actually do on your Sabbath?”  It’s a question I have received many times.  Usually, I think people want to make sure I am resting and reenergizing.  Or maybe they are imagining what they would do with a Sabbath day.  Or, maybe just the word “Sabbath” is a little too churchy and weird, and so they are trying to figure it out – does it just mean “day off”?

The truth is, usually my Sabbath day is just that – a day off where I do the same stuff everyone else does on their day off.  I run errands, clean the house, try to go to an exercise class, go to a doctor’s appointment, get my hair cut, or, if I’m lucky, get a nap.  I do not think a single Sabbath has consisted of me “sitting around all day and eating bonbons,” as many have asked.  Luxuriating may happen for an hour, but that is rare, and it never extends to a whole day.  And although I do try to take care of my physical well-being, I can rarely be found praying, meditating, or studying all day.

But this past Monday and Tuesday, I converted my Sabbath to a true Sabbath.  I got away with four other clergy friends, and we took a true Sabbath – not answering work emails (for the most part), not tending to the laundry, not running errands, but just relaxing, sharing stories about our ministries, talking about our dreams, reflecting on our relationships, and even exchanging ideas about leadership.  Of course, there was also yummy food, lots of laughter, sleeping in, and balancing a nice long hike with some comfy time on the couch.  But because we stepped away from the everyday stuff of life and work, we all actually reconnected with the intention of Sabbath – of taking time apart to reconnect with God, with others, and with ourselves.

Now, I know how hard finding true Sabbath time can be.  Lord knows, I am not sure when the last time my “Sabbath day” felt like this much of a Sabbath.  But I suspect that there might be ways that we can create little moments of Sabbath in our lives.  Maybe it’s putting down technology for a few hours.  Maybe it’s mixing up the family’s routine to spend unstructured time together.  Maybe it is neglecting that “to do” list for a few hours to read, pray, or connect with God, others, and/or ourselves.  You will have to be creative to find it – you may even have to just claim it by turning off all stimulation in the car so that the ten minutes of alone time you get is dedicated to Sabbath.  Regardless of the restrictions on your time, Sabbath is actually about intentionality – intentionally creating little blocks of time set apart.  It takes work, but when you intentionally make that space, not only are you restored, and your relationships enriched, but also, you may be able to finally hear the Holy Spirit’s whisper.  I cannot wait to hear about your creative creations of Sabbath, and the new ways your spirit is renewed!

On Gifts and Giving…

Tags

challenge, Christ, church, encounter, gifts, God, Holy Spirit, listen, ministry, new, passion, talent, time, volunteer

Photo credit:  https://www.plitvice-etnogarden.com/team-building/

As every year of ordained ministry passes, I become more grateful for my work before ordination.  For about six years, I was the Director of Volunteer Services for a Habitat for Humanity affiliate in Delaware.  Coordinating over 2000 volunteers a year, a major part of my job was helping people find just the right volunteer position based on their gifts.  Most volunteers that came my way expected that volunteering at Habitat meant wielding a hammer.  And sometimes that was true.  But sometimes you were hanging drywall, or painting, or putting down flooring.  Sometimes you weren’t doing construction work at all.  Volunteers were needed in the office, partnering with families as they worked on their sweat equity hours and financial training classes, helping raise funds, and serving on the Board.  Sometimes the gifts of a person were a perfect match for what we needed, and sometimes volunteers wanted to try something totally out of their comfort zone.  Figuring that out took time, listening, and a little bit of experimenting.

The same is true in churches.  We all come to church with many gifts, and sometimes those gifts are just what is needed:  the elementary music teacher who takes on the pageant, the architect who takes on property management, the financial planner who serves on the endowment board.  But sometimes, church is where we want to find and use other gifts:  the engineer who is also great relating with kids, the military officer who is also great with technology, or the construction worker who is a fantastic listener and discernment partner.  And sometimes, the things we think we would never be able to do we discover we can do through service at church.

This week at Hickory Neck, we are spending some time discerning our gifts and how we might use them to build up the church.  For some, this is a time to renew our passion for a current ministry we serve, and rededicate ourselves to making that ministry more powerful.  For others, we need a break from serving in one capacity, and want to try something new.  For others, we have yet to commit to serving the church and are nervous to step forward.  What the church reminds us during this time of connection is each of us has gifts, and the church is better when we gift those talents and our time to the church.  The church knows that when we give of that time and talent, we get so much more back.  We learn, we grow, we make new friends, and we come closer to God.  Whether it’s picking up sticks on a cleanup day, making meals for the homebound or new parents, or editing a newsletter, in those activities we have holy encounters with Christ.

I cannot wait to hear how you will give of yourself this year at Hickory Neck.  I cannot wait to hear how you are challenging yourself, and listening to the whisper of the Holy Spirit.  I cannot wait to hear in the coming year the ways in which you bump into God, even in the most unlikely places.  When each of us tends to our gifts and our journey at Hickory Neck, the community as a whole benefits.  We all get a bit closer to God when we simply show up and use our gifts.  I look forward to hearing about your journey in time and talent this year!

Sermon – Isaiah 43.1-7, EP1, YC, January 13, 2019

Tags

affirmation, Annual Meeting, calling, emboldening, encouragement, giving, God, Holy Spirit, Jesus, love, ministry, precious, protect, Sermon, serving, year

Today, as we celebrate another year of ministry in Jesus Christ through Hickory Neck, and as we host our Annual Meeting, we hear words of encouragement from Holy Scripture.  The reading from Isaiah says, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.  For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.  …you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you…”   God’s words spoken through the prophet tell God’s people they are cherished and loved, they will be protected, even through the waters and fires of life, and they are called for a purpose.

As I reflect back on this past year, we have seen evidence that we are precious in God’s sight, and honored, and loved.  We see that most readily in the pastoral care and fellowship of Hickory Neck.  Whether we have been visited by a priest or a Eucharistic Visitor, whether we have received a birthday, sympathy, or prayer card, or whether we have had our dreams heard and affirmed, we have felt precious, honored, and loved and Hickory.  We have felt that same sense of love in times of fellowship – whether laughing at coffee hour or brunch, finding spiritual renewal at the Women’s Retreat or a Quiet Day, connecting with longtime friends at summer merged services or our new Rector’s lunches, or whether we have met new friends at joint picnics with the Kensington School – we have felt God’s love through one another.  And as we have baptized many a child this past year, married and renewed the vows of parishioners, and lovingly buried old friends, we have felt that sense of being honored and precious in God’s eyes.  If ever we were uncertain that God loves us, that we are precious and honored, we find that affirmation in the ministries and witness of one another at Hickory Neck.

Life at Hickory Neck also testifies to God’s insistence that we not be afraid – that God is with us as we pass through the waters, through the rivers, or walk through the fires.  We entered 2018 with budget deficit, knowing we had trimmed as much as we could, and praying for generous hearts and frugal hands.  And just this week, our Treasurer tells us that we finished the year in the black!  I am so grateful for the ways in which God inspired your generosity to Hickory Neck, helping us serve Christ in the world!  Talk about walking through a fire (and literal waters, as Pete Devlin bailed out the Chapels too many times to count this year!).  But that was not the only trial this year.  This year we also passed through the waters of being a property that only hosted a church to a property that opened its doors and its hearts to a new school.  We labored through SUP permits, giant trailers and construction, the demolishing of an old playground and the creation of a new beautiful playground, and waiting for a Certificate of Occupancy.  But we emerged out of the waters into a new relationship – one that is bringing mutual blessing and joy, that is blessing our community, and is serving a need beyond our doors.  We have walked through waters, rivers, and fires, and yet God has been with us, inspiring us, encouraging us, and building us up to be stronger witnesses for Christ.

Finally, when God tells the people of Israel they are called by name, and they are God’s, we hear echoes of that same sense of calling at Hickory Neck.  God has called many of us to new ministries this year – from new Task Forces, to covering duties once held by a volunteer sexton, to new chairs of committees and participants in ministries, to a new deacon.  God has also called Hickory Neck out into our community. From hosting the Winter Shelter, to providing backpacks to neighbors in need, to raising funds for local charities, and supporting the work the Discretionary Fund does to help neighbors in financial crisis.  And when one of our new member’s family was devastated by fires in California, Hickory Neck claimed them as their own, helping support their recovery.  As members of Hickory Neck, we are called by named, known by God, and are serving as witnesses of Christ in the world.

Unfortunately, we do not get to close 2018, dust off our hands, and say, “Good work, Hickory Neck!  You’re all done!”  As we look toward 2019, with yet another budget deficit, we realize a few things.  This year holds yet another river we will need to cross – a river that the Lord promises will not overwhelm us.  This year, I, with the help of Personnel and our Vestry, will be reimagining the staffing of Hickory Neck as we face yet another transition.  As Charlie’s tenure as our curate comes to end and we celebrate his time with us, we know that Hickory Neck will need to envision a new way to staff our parish for the future.  I do not know the end result of that discernment, but I do know that God has powerful things in store for us.  As much as mentoring a curate into a new ministry has been a blessing for us, I suspect the other side of this river has blessings for us too.  We have hints of that blessing as we see the generosity of many in our parish, a majority of whose pledges increased, and whose average pledge is higher than many Episcopal parishes.

As we look ahead to 2019, we hear echoes of God’s words through Isaiah, “you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you.”  Upon the completion of our Church Safety Task Force’s work, the Vestry will be making some decision and implementing new practices to ensure each parishioner’s safety while on our campus because each member and visitor’s life is precious to us.  Likewise, our Pastoral Care team will be implementing the new Circle Ministry to help parishioners stay connected through prayer every week.  Meanwhile, the staff and leadership of Hickory Neck has committed itself to honoring one another through increased opportunities for fellowship and pastoral care, for formation of children and adults, and for the tending of our newcomers.

Finally, as we enter into 2019, we do not forget God’s words to the people of Israel, “I have called you by name, you are mine.”  One of the primary reasons we and the Bishop called Deacon Bob to serve Hickory Neck was so he could help each of us assess how God is calling us this year, reminding us to whom we belong, and how we can serve this God who loves us so much.  We answer God’s call later this winter as we host Winter Shelter on our own for the first time since we started co-hosting Winter Shelter weeks.  This year we also commit to Hickory Neck’s calling to be a home the multigenerational care of our neighbors.  We expect our relationship with the Kensington School to deepen, as we offer Godly Play classes to students, increase pastoral care efforts to students, teachers, and families, and as we add opportunities for fellowship and formation.  We will also continue our discernment around elder respite care, determining how to address the growing need in our community and how we can utilize our resources for our neighbors in need.  God has called us to powerful ministries in 2019, and Hickory Neck is poised to respond, “Here I am, Lord.”

When I read this passage from Isaiah in preparation for today, I felt an overwhelming sense of affirmation, encouragement, and emboldening.  When I looked back at 2018 with Hickory Neck and looked forward at 2019 with Hickory Neck, I felt a similarly overwhelming sense of affirmation, encouragement, and emboldening.  God is doing great things for, in, and through us.  God celebrates with us this day, and also throws us back in the saddle as we take on the mantle of being called to seek and serve Christ, and strengthen this community into a community of belonging, believing, and becoming.  I am confident in what God is doing through us, and I encouraged by the witness of each person in this room, and I am emboldened by the activity of the Holy Spirit working in us to witness Christ’s love and light.  “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.  For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.  …you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you…”   Amen.